Raiden Alaric

"So," I said, settling back in my chair, "before we get into anything else, I have to ask about your trip. Lyralei mentioned you were checking on the other properties. How did you manage to visit all of them so quickly?"

Seraphina straightened slightly, slipping into what was clearly her professional mode. "I apologize for not being here to greet you personally upon your arrival, Master Alaric. I used the most efficient transportation available to ensure all properties met proper standards for your potential visits."

"Right, but how exactly did you get around so fast? I mean, we're talking about properties across multiple continents."

"I took the private jet, of course," she said matter-of-factly, then paused as her expression shifted to one of concern. "Oh! I apologize, I should have realized that I used it without explicit permission. I seem to have brought older habits from my previous employer over to you." She bowed her head formally. "I will ensure to request permission for any future use of your assets."

I felt my brain short-circuit.

"Jet..." I managed to croak out. "Ha... haha... you mean like, one that's rented out... right?"

Seraphina tilted her head, looking genuinely puzzled. "No, I mean the one you own? The Gulfstream G650 based at the private airfield. It's part of your transportation assets."

I stared at her, my mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. The room seemed to tilt sideways as the reality hit me.

I own a private jet. I own a PRIVATE JET. Lyralei you didn't mention that privy detail…

"Master Alaric?" Seraphina's voice carried a note of concern. "Are you quite alright?"

I continued staring at her, completely frozen. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I could hear the sound of my remaining connection to normal financial reality snapping like a rubber band.

"You... casually... took my private jet... to inspect my eight mansions..." I said slowly, as if speaking to myself.

"Yes, sir. It seemed the most practical approach given the timeline."

I let out a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a whimper, then slumped forward until my forehead hit the desk with a soft thud.

"Master Alaric!"

"I'm fine," I mumbled into the desktop. "I'm just... processing the fact that I apparently own a private jet. Like, an actual airplane. That I can just... use."

"Well, yes," she said carefully. "Though I should mention it does require advance notice for flight planning and crew scheduling..."

I made another strangled sound and slumped deeper into the desk.

After a moment, I forced myself to sit up properly, running my hands through my hair. "Okay. Right. Private jet. Added to the list of things I apparently own now." I took a deep breath. "Why don't you give me the full rundown? I have a feeling there's more I need to know."

Seraphina nodded, pulling out her crystalline device and arranging some notes. "Of course, Master Alaric. I should provide you with a comprehensive overview of your holdings and their management."

She cleared her throat delicately and began what was clearly a well-practiced briefing.

"As Lyralei mentioned, your portfolio includes the real estate holdings, investment accounts, and liquid assets," she said, consulting her device. "However, there are operational complexities she wouldn't have covered. Managing eight properties across multiple continents involves coordination challenges most people don't consider."

I nodded, trying to look like I was processing this normally instead of having an internal crisis.

"Each property requires specialized staff, different maintenance contracts, varying local regulations, and customs requirements for transportation between jurisdictions," she continued professionally. "I used the most efficient transportation available to ensure all properties met proper standards for your potential visits."

"Right," I said weakly. "The jet I apparently own."

Oh, how do I explain this away to Mom… I'm not a drug lord, I swear…

"Additionally, there are numerous commercial investment properties worldwide generating rental income, though I can provide detailed breakdowns of those at a later time if you prefer."

I was starting to feel that familiar sensation of my brain trying to process numbers it wasn't designed for. "And you manage all of this?"

"I oversee the coordination, yes. Each property has its own management staff, but I handle scheduling, budgets, maintenance contracts, maid coordination across all locations, financial reporting, and ensuring everything operates smoothly." She paused. "I also manage the household accounts, coordinate with your financial advisors, handle property taxes across multiple jurisdictions, oversee security arrangements, and maintain relationships with all service providers."

I stared at her. "You do all of that?"

"It's my responsibility to ensure your life runs without complications, Master Alaric."

"Seraphina," I said slowly, "that sounds like the workload of about five different people."

She looked slightly surprised by the observation. "I've been managing the Brightmoor holdings for several years. I'm quite efficient."

"Efficient?" I leaned forward. "You're practically running a small corporation single-handedly. That's not efficiency, that's..." I gestured helplessly. "I don't even know what to call that."

A small smile tugged at her lips. "I prefer 'thorough,' Master Alaric."

I was about to respond when something occurred to me. "Wait, what about the Brightmoor estate? The one where Ella and her family live?"

Seraphina consulted her device. "Ah yes, that property was gifted to the Vel'areis family several years ago as part of a diplomatic arrangement. It's not included in your holdings."

Relief flooded through me so fast I nearly sagged in my chair. "Oh thank god. I was having visions of accidentally being Ella's landlord or something equally awkward."

"I take it you know the family?"

"You could say that," I said with a grin. "Though I have to admit, there's a tiny part of me that thinks it would be hilarious to hold that over her head. 'Hey Ella, remember that time you were incredibly rude to me? Well, funny story about who owns the land you're standing on...'"

Seraphina's eyes widened slightly. "Master Alaric, you wouldn't actually..."

"Oh no, definitely not," I lied. "But the thought is pretty entertaining."

As the initial shock of the jet revelation wore off, I found myself genuinely impressed by how competently Seraphina had laid everything out. She clearly knew these holdings inside and out, and the way she'd organized the information made even the overwhelming scope seem manageable.

"You know what?" I said, my tone becoming more casual as I leaned back in my chair. "I have to say, I'm pretty impressed. You've got this whole thing running like a well-oiled machine."

"Thank you, Master Alaric."

"Seriously, after hearing all that, I'm starting to think you could probably run a small country." I grinned at her. "Hell, you're definitely overqualified for managing everything here."

Something shifted in her expression, a barely perceptible tightening around her eyes. "I'm quite content with my current position."

"I'm sure you are, but that's not what I meant." I waved my hand dismissively. "I just mean you're ridiculously overqualified for this. Someone with your skills could be running entire countries or managing the portfolios of the most powerful people in multiple realms. Hell, there are probably kings and sect leaders who would pay astronomical amounts just to have you coordinating their operations. Why settle for this? While being extremely underpaid."

The formal mask slipped back into place so smoothly I almost missed it. "I prefer the stability of private household management, Master Alaric."

"Right, but why do you keep doing the whole formal thing?" I asked, genuinely curious. "I mean, I've told you to be casual, but you keep slipping back into 'Master Alaric' this and 'proper protocol' that. What's the deal?"

Seraphina hesitated, clearly choosing her words carefully. "It's not simply preference, Master Alaric. Proper etiquette and formal hierarchy are fundamental aspects of professional household management. They serve important functions."

"Like what?"

"They maintain clear boundaries and expectations," she explained, her tone taking on an almost instructional quality. "When maids understand their roles and responsibilities within a formal structure, it prevents confusion, reduces conflicts, and ensures efficient operations. The formality isn't about subservience, it's about professionalism."

I tilted my head. "But you could be professional without all the bowing and 'Master Alaric' stuff, couldn't you?"

"Perhaps, but consider the practical implications," she continued. "You now employ forty people across eight properties. Without clear hierarchical structures, how do you maintain consistency in service standards? How do you ensure that the maids in Tokyo follow the same protocols as the maids in London? Formal procedures create standardization."

"I guess that makes sense from a management perspective," I admitted.

"Additionally," she said, warming to the topic, "many maids actually prefer formal structures. They provide security and clear expectations. When everyone understands the hierarchy, there's less anxiety about overstepping boundaries or making mistakes."

She paused, her expression becoming more serious. "There's also the cultural aspect to consider. Many of these protocols stem from High Elven traditions, where formal hierarchy and proper etiquette aren't just professional standards, they're deeply ingrained cultural values. High Elven society is extremely strict about maintaining proper relationships between different social classes and positions."

"Cultural traditions?"

"Yes. In High Elven culture, failing to observe proper formalities isn't just considered unprofessional, it's seen as deeply disrespectful, almost insulting. The concept of casual interaction between employer and staff would be considered inappropriate at best, scandalous at worst." Her tone grew more instructional. "Many of your maids come from backgrounds where these traditions were essential for social acceptance and professional survival."

"Okay, I can see the logic in that." I leaned forward slightly. "But here's my thing, I don't really care about hierarchies. As far as I'm concerned, you're all essential to making this work, which makes you equals in my book. Especially anyone who can kick my ass in a fair fight."

She looked genuinely puzzled. "I'm sorry?"

"Well, Lyralei mentioned that all the maids are Blue or Violet ranked Ascendants," I said with a grin. "I only just Awakened. Most of you could probably protect me better than I could protect myself. Hard to feel superior to people who are objectively more capable than I am."

Seraphina blinked, clearly not having expected that perspective. "That's... an unusual way to view the arrangement."

"Maybe, but it's honest." I shrugged. "Look, I get that you need systems and structure to manage everything efficiently. But from my perspective, you're not my subordinate. You're the person who keeps my life from falling apart. That deserves respect, not formality."

For a moment, her professional composure wavered slightly, and I caught a glimpse of something almost vulnerable in her expression. "I... appreciate that perspective, Master Alaric. Though I hope you understand that changing established protocols across eight properties and forty maids would be quite complicated."

"I'm not asking you to revolutionize everything overnight," I said gently. "I just want you to know that I don't need the formal treatment. Especially not when we're talking one-on-one like this."

She was quiet for a moment, clearly processing this. "The thing is," she said carefully, "formal protocols also protect maids from... misunderstandings. Clear boundaries help prevent situations where relationships become... complicated."

"What kind of complications?"

Her expression became more guarded. "When informal relationships develop between employers and staff, it can create problems. Favoritism, jealousy among other maids, unclear expectations about duties versus personal relationships." She paused, her voice taking on a slightly distant quality. "Professional distance protects everyone involved. Sometimes getting too close to people... can lead to consequences no one intended."

"That makes sense," I said, though something in her tone made me curious. "Sounds like you've seen that kind of thing go wrong before."

"I've worked in this field for several years," she said diplomatically, though her fingers briefly tightened on her crystalline device. "I've observed various... situations where boundaries became unclear and people suffered for it."

I studied her face, noting how carefully neutral her expression had become. There was something in her violet eyes, not quite sadness, but a weight that spoke of hard-earned experience. "You're pretty insistent about this stuff. I mean, I get the practical reasons, but it feels like there's more to it than just professional efficiency."

Her aura flickered. Just for a split second, like a brief ripple across still water, but I caught it. For just a moment, something darker seemed to pulse beneath the controlled surface, not malicious, but heavy with old pain.

"I have a... rough past that I'd rather not get into," she said quietly, her professional mask slipping just slightly. "I hope you can respect that boundary."

"Of course," I said immediately, surprised by the vulnerability in her voice. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

She looked genuinely startled by my response. "You... you're not going to insist on details? Most employers want to know everything about their staff's backgrounds."

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"Why would I? Everyone deserves privacy about their past." I leaned in my chair, my tone becoming more sincere. "Look, I'll always be ready to lend you an open ear if you ever want to talk about it. And I only ask because if there's some way I can help, I will. But that's your choice to make."

The surprise in her expression was unmistakable, followed by something that looked almost like relief. "That's... very kind of you. Most El—people in your position wouldn't be so understanding."

You were about to call out Elves, weren't you~

"Yeah, well, I'm probably not like most people in my position," I said with a slight smile. "Besides, from what I can see, you're incredibly competent and trustworthy. Whatever happened before, you've clearly earned your place here."

I gestured to the surrounding home, my tone casual but my attention focused. "You've got this place down to a science. Doesn't it ever feel like you're, I don't know, slumming it here with all that talent? You could probably run a palace or something."

Another flicker, briefer this time, more controlled, but still there. For just an instant, something that might have been old grief crossed her features before the professional mask snapped back into place. Like she'd been asked a similar question before and had gotten better at hiding her reaction.

"I'm quite satisfied with my current position," she said, her voice perfectly steady. "Managing your properties provides exactly the kind of challenges I prefer. Simple, honest work with clear expectations."

The way she emphasized 'simple' and 'honest' made me think there was a story there, like maybe her previous work had been neither of those things.

But I was remembering what Chronos had told me about Aura's. How it reflected someone's natural state, how difficult it was to completely suppress emotional responses, especially for anyone below Nexus. That tiny inconsistency in her otherwise perfectly controlled aura suggested she was working to hide something.

I leaned back in my chair, a slight grin tugging at my lips.

"What?" she asked, noticing my expression.

"Nothing," I said innocently. "Just thinking about how interesting this arrangement is going to be."

She looked at me warily, clearly unsure what I meant by that, but I just smiled and changed the subject.

"So, what else do I need to know about managing all this ridiculous luxury?"

What followed was an exhaustive breakdown that made my head spin. Seraphina walked me through annual budgets that included everything from property maintenance contracts (apparently maintaining eight luxury estates cost more than most people's lifetime earnings), to staff coordination logistics (coordinating forty people across different time zones was apparently a nightmare), to something called "diplomatic entertainment expenses" that I was afraid to ask about.

She covered insurance policies for assets I'd forgotten I owned, tax obligations across multiple jurisdictions that made my head hurt just thinking about them, and maintenance schedules for everything from the helicopter to something called "aura-tech calibration services."

"Though I should mention," she added, consulting her notes, "the tax situation has become more complicated since the transfer. The Brightmoor family was tax-exempt due to their affiliation with the Skyhaven sect, but as an independent holder, you'll be subject to standard taxation across all jurisdictions."

I felt my soul leave my body. "Wait, what? They didn't have to pay taxes?"

"Sect members receive significant tax benefits as part of their religious and cultural protections," she explained matter-of-factly. "It's a centuries-old arrangement with most governments."

"Are you telling me," I said slowly, "that I went from owing basically no taxes to owing taxes on billions of dollars in assets and hundreds of millions in annual income?"

"I'm afraid so. Though we do have excellent accountants who specialize in minimizing tax burdens through legal means."

I slumped forward, burying my face in my hands. "I can actually hear the IRS sharpening their knives from here."

By the time she finished, I felt like I'd been hit by a truck made of spreadsheets and financial projections.

"And finally," she said, consulting her device, "we should discuss the maids compensation to ensure you're satisfied with the current arrangements."

I perked up slightly. This was something I'd been thinking about.

"The current wage structure," she continued professionally, "ranges from twenty-eight thousand to sixty thousand annually depending on position and experience, with full benefits including housing, meals, and healthcare. Given the scope of responsibilities and the... unique requirements of managing your properties, I believe the compensation is competitive, though if you find the current wages unsatisfactory, I would be happy to negotiate adjustments."

I tried to keep my expression neutral, though I was practically vibrating with anticipation. "Actually, yes. I've been briefed on the current situation, and I do want to make some changes."

Seraphina immediately stiffened, her professional composure becoming almost rigid. I could see her mind working, probably calculating exactly how much money I'd just learned was going to the maid's salaries each year.

She bowed her head formally. "If you wish to lower the wages, then I would implore you to reconsider. These wages represent the livelihoods of forty dedicated individuals who have served faithfully across all your properties. They depend on this income to support themselves and their families."

Her voice became more earnest, almost pleading. "If reduction is necessary for budgetary reasons, then please, reduce my wage instead of theirs. I can manage with less, but many of the others..."

I couldn't help it. A smile broke across my face.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, genuinely confused by her assumption.

She looked up, blinking in surprise. "I... I beg your pardon?"

"Seraphina," I said, my grin widening, "I don't want to lower anyone's wages. I want to triple them."

For a moment, she just stared at me. Then she blinked. Once. Twice. Her pointed ears gave a small twitch.

Okay, Elves need to calm down with that cute ear twitch…

"I'm sorry," she said very politely, her voice carefully controlled. "Could you please repeat that? I believe I may have misheard you."

"Triple everyone's wages," I said clearly, enjoying her expression. "Your salary goes from sixty thousand to a hundred and eighty thousand annually. The other maids go from an average of about thirty-five thousand to a hundred and five thousand."

Seraphina's perfect composure began to crack. She stared at me with wide violet eyes, her crystalline device forgotten in her hands.

"That's... that would cost approximately 2.8 million additional per year," she said faintly, as if running automatic calculations. "Master Alaric, surely you can't be serious about this."

"I'm completely serious."

"But that's... this must be some sort of test," she said, her voice becoming slightly desperate. "You're testing my reaction to see if I'll take advantage of your generosity, aren't you? Like some kind of loyalty evaluation?"

I tilted my head. "You know, Lyralei said almost exactly the same thing. Do I really seem like the kind of person who would mess with people about money?"

"I..." she looked genuinely lost. "Master Alaric, I couldn't possibly accept such a generous increase. None of us could. It's far too much for household management services, regardless of—"

"Seraphina," I said, cutting her off before she could spiral further, "that's not all."

Her eyes widened even more, which I hadn't thought was possible.

"In order to give everyone some real financial security, I'm also going to be giving each maid a five million dollar bonus."

The crystalline device slipped from her nerveless fingers and clattered onto the desk.

"I'll be selling the Elven art collection," I continued conversationally. "All those dramatic paintings of high elves looking constipated on mountains. Should bring in about 150 to 200 million, maybe more, if I can find the right buyers in the Elven realms."

Seraphina opened and closed her mouth several times, no sound coming out. Her gaze darted between me and the fallen device, as if she couldn't decide which crisis to address first.

"Five... million..." she whispered. "Each?"

"Each," I confirmed cheerfully.

"And you're selling the... the cultural artifacts..."

"Every last dramatically posed painting," I said with a nod. "Though I'm thinking of keeping one or two of the most ridiculous ones. Maybe the guy teaching math to unicorns. That one's pretty entertaining."

Seraphina looked like her brain was actively short-circuiting, trying to process both pieces of information simultaneously and failing spectacularly.

"Oh, and one more thing," I said, as if I'd just remembered something minor. "I want you to hire some assistants."

Her head snapped up, blinking rapidly. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Assistants. Help. You're managing eight properties, forty maids, coordinating with financial advisors, handling taxes across multiple jurisdictions, overseeing maintenance contracts..." I counted off on my fingers. "Seraphina, you're doing the work of about five people. That's not sustainable."

"Master Alaric, I assure you I'm perfectly capable of handling my current responsibilities—"

"I'm sure you are," I interrupted. "But that doesn't mean you should have to. I want you to hire at least two, maybe three assistants. Someone to help with property coordination, someone for financial administration, maybe a dedicated travel coordinator for the jet and other logistics."

Her professional mask was slipping back into place, though her eyes still held a slightly wild quality. "That's really not necessary. I've been managing perfectly well on my own, and the additional salary costs—"

"Seraphina," I said, my tone becoming more serious, "this isn't a suggestion. This is a direct order. If you wish to remain employed in this position, you will hire appropriate assistance."

She stared at me, clearly taken aback by the sudden shift to actual authority. "You're... ordering me to make my job easier?"

"I'm ordering you to stop trying to be a one-woman army," I said firmly. "You're incredibly competent, but you're also human. Well, Elven. The point is, you need support, and I'm not going to stand by and watch you burn yourself out managing all of this while I'm off training and attending academies."

I leaned back in my chair. "Look, the reality is I could retire tomorrow if I wanted to. I've got more money than I could spend in several lifetimes. But since I'm in this position, I want everyone who works with me to be comfortable too. You shouldn't have to sacrifice your wellbeing just because I accidentally inherited a financial empire."

For a moment, she looked genuinely speechless, as if the concept of being forced to accept help was completely foreign to her.

Then something seemed to snap.

"I... but the... the salary increases alone would be 2.8 million annually, and then five million each for forty maids is two hundred million, plus hiring assistants adds more salary costs, and the art collection..." She was speaking faster and faster, her professional composure completely abandoning her. "The tax implications of transferring that much money, the employment contract modifications, the banking regulations for transfers of this size, the cultural preservation concerns about selling High Elven artifacts to private collectors..."

She trailed off, staring at me with wide eyes as if she'd just realized the scope of what I was proposing.

"Master Alaric, could I... could I perhaps sit down properly? I'm feeling rather... overwhelmed."

"You are sitting down," I pointed out gently.

"Oh." She blinked, looking down at her chair in confusion. "Could I... have some water perhaps?"

I was already reaching for the pitcher on the side table, pouring her a glass. She accepted it gratefully and took several small sips, her hands trembling slightly.

"This is real, isn't it?" she asked quietly. "You're actually serious about all of this."

"Completely serious."

She took another sip of water, then set the glass down carefully and looked at me with an expression I couldn't quite read.

"How will we handle the tax implications of such large monetary gifts?" she asked, slipping back into professional mode though her voice was still shaky. "Transfers of this magnitude will trigger multiple reporting requirements. We'll need to coordinate with accountants across several jurisdictions to ensure proper documentation."

"I... have no idea," I admitted.

"And the employment contracts will need to be completely restructured. We can't simply triple salaries without proper legal documentation. There are labor law considerations, benefit adjustments, potential impacts on visa statuses for international staff..."

I was starting to feel overwhelmed myself. "Okay, that sounds complicated."

"Then there's the art authentication process. If you're planning to sell High Elven cultural artifacts, especially to Elven realm buyers, we'll need proper provenance documentation, cultural export permits, and authentication from recognized experts. The process could take months."

"Right," I said weakly. "So... a lot of paperwork."

"Mountains of paperwork," she confirmed. "And banking institutions will require advance notice for transfers of this size. Anti-money laundering protocols, source of funds verification, international transfer regulations..." She paused, looking directly at me. "Master Alaric, do you have any idea how to handle any of these logistics?"

"Not in the slightest," I said with a sheepish grin.

"Then you definitely need me to hire those assistants immediately."

"That was kind of the point."

She was quiet for a long moment, just staring at her hands. When she looked up again, her violet eyes were bright with unshed tears.

"Why?" she asked softly, all pretense of formality gone. "Why are you doing this? You barely know any of us. You could keep all of this wealth for yourself, live comfortably forever, and no one would question it. So why... why give away hundreds of millions of dollars to a staff of maids?"

I leaned forward, my expression becoming more serious. "Because I don't need it, and you do. Simple as that."

"It's not that simple," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "People don't just... people like you don't usually..." She stopped, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry, this is terribly unprofessional."

"Seraphina, forget professional for a minute," I said gently. "Just talk to me."

She took a shaky breath. "In my experience, people with power and wealth use it to control others, not to help them. They offer just enough to keep you dependent, but never enough to give you real freedom. What you're offering... it's not just money. It's actual independence. The freedom to choose."

There was something in her voice. A depth of gratitude that spoke of someone who had never expected kindness without strings attached.

"That's exactly what I'm hoping for," I said quietly. "I want everyone to stay because they want to, not because they have to."

She wiped her eyes again, trying to regain her composure. "I... thank you. Truly. This is..." She gestured helplessly. "I don't have words for what this means."

We sat in comfortable silence for a moment before her expression gradually shifted, becoming more concerned.

"Master Alaric," she said carefully, "I need you to understand something. What you're proposing... it's going to have consequences far beyond this household."

"What do you mean?"

"Word will get out," she said seriously. "It always does. And when other wealthy families hear that you've tripled your household staff's salaries and given each of them millions in bonuses..." She shook her head. "There will be reactions."

A small grin tugged at the corner of my lips. "What kind of reactions?"

"Other employers might see it as you showing them up, making them look cheap or cruel by comparison. Some might retaliate against their own staff out of spite. Others might expect their staff to accept lower wages because 'they should be grateful for what they have.'" Her expression grew more worried. "You might also find yourself targeted by people who want to take advantage of your generosity, or by those who see you as a threat to the established social order."

"Well I'd assume you have methods to be able to find only the best and brightest that are genuine. Ones that won't take advantage of me, correct?"

She nodded, "Absolutely."

I tilted my head. "You're also saying my being generous could cause problems for other people?"

"I'm saying that in the world you now inhabit, generosity on this scale is seen as either weakness or rebellion. Either way, it makes you a target." She leaned forward earnestly. "I'm not trying to talk you out of this. It's the most wonderfully insane thing anyone has ever done for us. But I need you to understand that there will be political and social ramifications."

"Political ramifications? For paying people fairly?"

"For disrupting the established order," she corrected gently. "The wealth gap between employers and household staff isn't just economics, it's social control. When you eliminate that gap, you challenge the entire system."

I sat back, processing this. "So you're saying that being decent to the people who work for me might make me enemies among other rich people?"

"I'm saying it definitely will," she said with certainty. "The question is whether you're prepared for that."

I hate nobles… Oh, I hate them… Wait, fuck, aren't I a noble now?

I was quiet for a moment, then shrugged. "You know what? I think I can live with being hated by people who think treating employees well is threatening."

Actually, the more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea. "Hell, if it makes other rich people look bad, that's just a bonus. And if some of them want to come after me personally about it..." I grinned. "Well, I could use the practice."

Seraphina looked alarmed. "Master Alaric, I don't think you understand. These aren't the kind of people who challenge you to honorable duels. They're more likely to use economic pressure, social isolation, or political manipulation."

"Let them try," I said with a shrug. "The only thing I actually care about is if they try to come after any of you. That's where I'd have a problem."

Her expression softened slightly. "You're not concerned about your own reputation?"

"What reputation? I'm eighteen. I've been rich for less than a day, and I still don't know how half the stuff in this house works. I still don't know where my bedroom is!" I leaned back in my chair. "If anything, having some entitled nobles get mad at me sounds like it might lead to some interesting fights down the line."

"You... want them to be angry with you?"

"I mean, I'm not going out of my way to antagonize people, but if my treating you all like human beings… or Elf… beings… whatever, people! Pisses off some aristocrats who think servants should be grateful for scraps?" I grinned wider. "Yeah, I'm perfectly fine with that. Maybe it'll even lead to some proper training for me."

A small smile tugged at her lips. "In that case, Master Alaric, I believe we have quite a lot of work to do."

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